“Oh dear,” she said again, feeling her newfound confidence wane.
Eva patted and tucked and fiddled with her hair on the way back to the house, took out her handkerchief and scrubbed her face, then tried to brush the grass stains from her skirts.
“It is you who are the duchess, your Grace,” Luton said as they entered the house. “Therefore perhaps they are at this very minute doing the same to themselves.”
Eva’s hands stopped in mid-pat and she looked into his wise old eyes and smiled. “You, Luton, are a prince amongst men.”
“Thank you, your Grace.” Luton opened the parlor door for Eva to enter.
“I’m so pleased to meet you, your Grace.”
Eva watched the beautiful woman walk toward her. She had hazel eyes and an open face and strawberry blonde curls peeking out from beneath her bonnet.
“I am Miss Belmont, your nearest neighbor.”
“How do you do.” Eva sank into a curtsy.
“And this is Mrs. Potter. She is the wife of Reverend Potter from the local parish,” Miss Belmont added, squeezing Eva’s hand hard, thus drawing her eyes upwards. Miss Belmont then winked at her.
Puzzled by the young lady’s actions, Eva turned to face the other woman in the room. And I thought I had bad fashion sense, she thought, looking at Mrs. Potter.
The woman before her looked like a brightly colored Christmas parcel. She was as wide as she was tall, her body swathed in yards of bright red fabric that scooped low over her ample bosom and nipped in tight around her waist, which in turn was accentuated with a wide green sash. Then again, perhaps she resembled a gaily wrapped sausage, Eva thought, looking at the rolls of fat protruding over the sash. Even Mrs. Potter’s hair was curled in tight sausage ringlets that framed a round face punctuated by two small eyes of indeterminate color.
“Please allow me to welcome you to the village, your Grace. Reverend Potter urged me to call upon you now you have settled in and ask if you will be attending services this Sunday.” Mrs. Potter’s smile was hopeful.
“Uh, I…”
“We are delighted to at last have another duchess living here at Stratton, and hope that soon you will honor our small village with a visit.”
“O-of course,” Eva said, feeling guilty that she had not already done so. “Please tell Reverend Potter I will attend church this Sunday, and forgive me for not doing so sooner. I am afraid it has taken me some time to settle in.’
“Oh no, your Grace.” Mrs. Potter clasped her hands to her ample bosom. “Please do not apologize. We are aware of the pressures such a great lady must have upon her time and it will be such an honor to have you attend our service. I will have the Stratton pew cleaned in expectation.”
“Please do not go to any trouble on my behalf, Mrs. Potter,” Eva added. She had visions of the village all turning out to clean before she arrived and she did not warrant such attention.#p#分页标题#e#
“It will be our pleasure, your Grace.” Mrs. Potter sank into a curtsy so low Eva wondered if she would need help rising.
“Would you ladies care for tea?” Eva looked longingly at the door. She had no experience with social chitchat and the prospect of sitting in a room with them was making her feel uneasy. She envisaged long, awkward silences.
“Tea would be delightful, would it not, Mrs. Potter?” Miss Belmont said, taking the lady’s arm and leading her to a chair.
“Oh, indeed it would, Miss Belmont. Tea with the Duchess.” Mrs. Potter patted her sausage curls. “The ladies of the village will be most envious.”
Eva did not say a great deal through the subsequent tea. She sat on the edge of her seat, very aware of her worn dress with its frayed hem, and listened to the other two ladies chat.
“I fear it is close to the reverend’s lunchtime,” Mrs. Potter said finally, struggling out of her chair, which took quite a bit of maneuvering, due to her bulk. “I like to be there when he takes his meals,” she added, sinking into another curtsy, and then she was gone.
Miss Belmont chuckled at the startled expression on Eva’s face as she looked at the closed door. “She is a kind-hearted lady who feels it’s her duty to poke her nose into everyone’s business. You are lucky she is in awe of you. The rest of us must suffer her moral sermons regularly.”
Eva returned her gaze to Miss Belmont. She looked so gracious in her lemon dress with satin trim. In fact, Miss Belmont appeared exactly as a duchess should and Eva felt a hot wave of shame at her own dowdy appearance. Catching sight of the worn toe of a slipper, she pushed her feet under the hem. What was she to say to this lady who had obviously been raised in society? Surely they had nothing in common.